


Not Just a Tag Along Kid

by TaraLaurel1



Category: The Outsiders (1983), The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 07:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraLaurel1/pseuds/TaraLaurel1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oneshot. Steve's reaction after Ponyboy and Johnny run away after killing the Soc. See a new side of Steve!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Just a Tag Along Kid

I was at the Curtis house, again. I spent plenty of time there before seeing as Soda is my best friend and that it was a hell of a lot better than going back to my broken shell of a home. Now though, now I spent nearly all of my time there, with Sodapop.

It was getting pretty late, but Darry was out working and I didn't want to leave Soda by himself. He was so torn up, it hurt to even look at him sometimes. What could do this to my fun-loving, always smiling, best pal?

Ponyboy, of course. It was always Ponyboy. It was like trouble followed him or something. There were times that I could not stand the little twerp, and now he was on the run. I had hated how much he tagged along with me and Soda, especially when we were with girls. Luckily, he would just stick his head in a book, but I would still feel uncomfortable, like at any moment he could look up and be watching me with Evie. I wasn't surprised when I had heard what had happened. Well, the Johnny killing a Soc part was a shocker, but the fact that Ponyboy was involved wasn't. He never used his head. I always agreed with Darry when he would lay into his brother for that.

I could hear faint coughs emerged from the hunched over ball that was my best friend on the other side of the couch and was pulled away from my thoughts. His shoulders were rocking hard with each sob. It had begun. Every night, around this time, Soda cried. Normally, us greasers don't cry over anything. Except Ponyboy. I remember seeing drying tears in his eyes after he had gotten jumped by some damn Socs not staying in their own territory and getting my nose nearly broken. There I was with blood streaming from my nostrils like a faucet or something after coming to his rescue and he was teary eyed about a little scratch from a switch.

I imagined meek and innocent Ponyboy fighting for his life against a group of Socs. I imagined Johnny, Johnny out of all people, killing one of the attackers and saving Ponyboy's life. I thought about the sensitive and thoughtful youngest of three brothers, ducking away from police cars, living in abandon buildings or cheap motels.  _Barely fourteen and already involved in a murder rap. Jeez. Always knew the kid was trouble. Trouble._ I thought, letting my previous sentence sink into my mind.  _Barely fourteen and he has seen more than most do in life._ For the first time ever, I did what Sodapop begged me to do a thousand times, I put myself in the kid's shoes. I took myself back to being his age. How I looked, how I dressed, how I acted, everything. I then imagined losing my parents, if I had parents who gave a rip about me. It wasn't working too well. I thought about the person I cared the most about. Sodapop. Then, I thought about him dead. The image alone made my skin go cold and my color turn pale. Sure I had the gang, but Soda was all I really had in this world.

In a flash, it all clicked. Soda and Darry were all Ponyboy had. Of course he would want to be with them, to hang out with them. He knew that at any moment, he could lose them. He wasn't annoying, he was hurting. I winced as I thought back to all the hurtful comments I had made towards him. How could I have been like that? How could I have treated him so much like dirt? I had only tolerated him because he was Soda's kid brother, I never cared to think like this before or get to know him. And now he was gone, maybe dead. Every time he was around, I had wanted him to get lost, and now, he was finally lost, and I wanted him back. I didn't know how or why I had changed, but I did. I wished for him to be sitting right in the middle of me and Soda. I'd push away my pride or selfishness and I would let him.

Yes, Soda cried every night that week that Ponyboy was gone and as I sat there, arm on my friend's shoulder, I felt the hot wetness of tears drain from my eyes.

I missed Ponyboy.


End file.
